6 Desperate Measures

It was late-winter, still cold outside, but the sun was shining out unblocked by the clouds. The warmth it provided as it shone down on Randolph was comforting, and it alleviated his fears. The further he walked, the more activity he noticed.

Cars sped by on the street while kids could be seen walking to school with their parents. People waited in groups at the bus stops while birds chirped in the background. It was as if he had broken out of a mold, from the eerie dead silence of the building to a bustling city in the early morning.

Turning his head back to the building, Randolph noticed nothing unusual. People were messily dumping their garbage at the back and a couple was arguing on one of the balconies on the first floor. It was an entire world apart from what had happened before.

"Well… Nothing I can do about it, I suppose."

While he was indeed curious, there was no way he was going to go searching for the answers to that mystery. Even if it wasn't dangerous, he had much more urgent matters to attend to seeing as to how it didn't affect him currently.

Shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind, Randolph continued onwards. He walked down to one of the populated bus stops, joining the crowd of people standing there.

It was around five minutes later that the bus came down the street. Boarding it, Randolph pulled out his wallet before grimacing, taking out two toonies1 – bus fare – to insert it into the box at the side.

The nearest police station was 40 minutes away by foot. If he could, he would have loved to walk to save the money, but he couldn't take the risk of any more danger waiting for him. Yes, he would rather walk over an hour there and back if he could save four dollars.

Finding an empty seat on the bus, Randolph sat down to wait. He did so in thought, both at his circumstances and the happenings in his life. He would often ponder like this when he had free time.

The strange incident was gradually forgotten about as he neared the police station, his nervousness wiping it out of his mind.

***

Getting off the bus, Randolph let out a heavy sigh.

A large semi-blue building stood in front of him, one of the local police stations. The building was built on bricks and was painted white and blue. It lacked a large amount of professionalism, but the large sign stated without room for misinterpretation that it was of the law.

While the building was called a station, it was more like a much smaller police department. Many of such buildings were dotted throughout the city for police to respond quickly to emergency situations along with easy access for civilians.

Randolph had sighed because of his nerves. He always felt a strange sense of pressure when near police, even though he hadn't done anything wrong.

It was likely the dirty looks they often gave him when he crossed their paths, as if it had already been determined that he was a future criminal-in-waiting.

"Ho…" Sucking in a deep breath, the young man straightened his back before continuing into the building.

The station's interior was much more spacious than it seemed from the outside. A receptionist desk sat in front of him upon entering. Several doors stood around it, leading to the dispatch center, the holding cells, and a briefing room. Along with them came several open flights of stairs leading up and down the building.

A thin police officer sat at the side of the entrance in full gear, equipped with a vest and a large belt. He gave Randolph a curious look as he crossed him by.

"Hello there, what may I help you with?" A greying middle-aged woman at the receptionist desk called out to Randolph as he approached, having seen him upon his entrance.

Her brows furrowed slightly upon getting a better look at him, probably due to his rough clothing, swollen eye, and visible bruises.

"Hello. My name is Randolph Ivy. I am here to… report a crime." His tone came out as slightly unsure of himself, but his gaze was still strong.

He had walked himself through an imaginary process on the bus, but the uncomfortable atmosphere got to him.

"Please elaborate." The woman held her hand out, her tone patient.

"I would like to report a case of assault, on me. I was ganged up on by four thugs in an alley, near my home. It was yesterday at around 8PM during the night."

"I understand." Nodding her head, the woman pulled out a piece of paper from inside of the desk. "Your case doesn't seem urgent so I won't report for any immediate action, but you'll need to fill out this statement form for us to be able to fully help you."

"Thank you." Taking the paper, Randolph nodded.

"I understand your desire for revenge Mister Ivy, but I don't think coming here to report should have been your first priority. Would you like me to call the paramedics over? I think a hospital trip is the best thing you can do for yourself right now."

"Err, thank you but I'm fine. I know my body."

"Very well then. I'll call over a general duty officer while you fill in your report. Please do so over at the seating area and we will get to you the first moment we can." Handing him a pen, the woman gestured to one of the doors at the side.

Nodding to her in thanks, Randolph entered the room.

The woman spoke in a soft manner, and he could tell that she meant well, but she had misunderstood several things. Firstly, he came to the police out of a dire sense of self-preservation, not revenge. Secondly, he knew himself that he needed a hospital visit but he couldn't get it. Canada had public health service, but he hadn't renewed his governmental ID in several years, making him ineligible for the service. If he had to go he would probably have to pay, and well, he didn't want to pay.

Giving the form a once-over, Randolph nodded in approval at what he saw. The form contained areas for the location of the incident, the appearances of the criminals, any witnesses, and questions about any evidence. It all seemed very professional.

As he continued though, he stopped nodding as his brows furrowed. Near the later parts of the page were some rather troublesome questions. They included any potential motives for the incident, his address, his phone number, and a section for his birth parents' names.

These were details that could – while not get him in any trouble – dissuade them from being serious in their investigation. But alas, Randolph wrote the truth on all parts of them. He had no choice but to do so, as lying to the police was considered a crime.

After a little while, a burly, rough looking police officer came through the door of the interview room. He was a large man in his mid-thirties. There were deep frown lines on his face, making it seem like he was perpetually frowning, but he gave a warm smile upon seeing Randolph looking at him.

"Hello there, sir. You can call me Officer Green, and I'm the officer assigned to help you with your potential case today."

Despite the man's looks, his tone and demeanor was gentle and patient.

"Yes, hello." Nodding in greeting Randolph handed him the form.

"I'll be back in just one second. Would you like anything while you wait? Perhaps some snacks or drinks?" Patting Randolph on the shoulder, the man nodded his head in empathy. "Being assaulted can be a very traumatic experience, but if it's true, then we will do everything we can to help you."

"Uh, no, no thank you."

"Alright, I'll be off to process these documents."